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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992577">00:21 (12:21 AM)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/haechansheaven/pseuds/haechansheaven'>haechansheaven</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Falling In Love, M/M, Modern Royalty, Strangers to Lovers, Unspecified Setting, introspective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:33:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/haechansheaven/pseuds/haechansheaven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emerging into the future, they find happiness.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>00:21 (12:21 AM)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobalamincosel/gifts">cobalamincosel</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>happiest of birthdays, dear monicles.<br/>i'm sorry that this took so long... it's two times as long as i intended it to be, but i hope you enjoy it all the same.</p>
<p>the idea of falling in love, first out of duty, and then out of earnestness, is quite lovely, i think.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Obedient. Obedience. An unwavering compliance for what orders he is given. There is no sense of self. This is something that Mark had long ago accepted—embraced the reality that he was born into. His mind allows no room for anything other than what he is presented with. Some consider him mindless. Mark prefers to call himself a genius that has learned to <em>thrive</em>.</p>
<p>He feels confident to stretch himself as far as they will allow and bury himself into the duties that he has been given. Mark is not heartless; in fact, people say he is far from it. He is a man with a pleasant smile that holds happiness and acceptance. This is his role, that is his future, and Mark has never known of the concept of disobedience. His father calls and Mark answers.</p>
<p>Mark himself knows what could await him outside their walls yet feels more comfortable living within them. His older brother asks him why he has yet to take the offers of freedom that their father presents him with, and, with great shame, Mark admits that he has no knowledge of what freedom would mean for him. Mark does not know what freedom is.</p>
<p>The walls around him control the environment, and Mark is happy with that. He is happy to live in a place where his hands are devoid of responsibility and given to someone else. It is not that he pushes away autonomy; if anything, Mark is strikingly independent and a constant in the village markets. There is just nothing that forces Mark to live for himself. He is a man full of gifts, yet without want to take his own.</p>
<p>That is how—that is why—he is here, sitting before his father as he receives news that startles himself; news that beckons Mark to sit straighter, sharpen his mind. To the right of his father, his mother desperately attempts to meet his gaze and read whatever emotions swirl in Mark’s mind. Not that there are many to sift through. There is confusion, and there is the smallest sense of fear. Beyond that, Mark is lost. These news are an indication that Mark will soon leave these walls and his existence of carefully crafted freedom.</p>
<p>Beyond this world that Mark was born into, there is little that he knows which was not presented to him in carefully copied words; panels of colors molded into shapes and highlighted with gold leaf. He walks this world with sure and steady, though gentle, footsteps, and realizes that he must now walk to a place with more force and less grace.</p>
<p>Mark will stumble and fall and be hurt along the way. This is something that he has long ago accepted, much in the same way John Seo has accepted that his future is to be kind first and happy second. His father always assures him that both are possible—that they can exist in the same life, though John finds himself less and less assured the longer he lives.</p>
<p>He is an only son, though, and his father’s words are both law and a comfort that John will miss as the days continue to pass until, one day, it is only him standing at the throne. They are a small country, and John listens to the words that absorb his no-longer land into another. It’s a delicate process; one that promises the grandfathering out of their patriarchal line.</p>
<p>John’s father will be the last King Seo of this land as the Lee Kingdom promises them protection in exchange for power. It is with hesitation and then decisiveness that John’s father acquiesces—bows his head with a grace that can only come from a king who has seen his people suffer—and informs his son that there will no longer be such a burden on his shoulders.</p>
<p>Happiness is somewhat within his grasp. It is fractured and somewhat broken, but it is happiness of some sort, and John holds onto it with an animalistic desperation.</p>
<p>There is no need for formality of any sort. Their kingdom is annexed into that of the Lee’s without any uprisings, the relief of the people a soothing sigh and a cold touch on a hot summer day. As outside powers continue to grow, their small kingdom feels a sense of security for the first time in years.</p>
<p>There is no need for formalities, and yet John is still pulled into his father’s study to meet his gaze head-on. His mother is gone, likely tending to the garden, though he can read the difficulty of the words in his father’s expression. There is nothing easy, John surmises, about admitting to your son that freedom is simply a passing notion in changing times.</p>
<p>John hopes that his smile feels genuine as he promises his father that he will find his own happiness outside of these crumbling walls. He has been raised in optimism—bathed in it and grown until he could develop his own. There is no love lost in him for his father. Responsibilities stripped John of his chances at happiness, so he decides to take this opportunity to mold his own.</p>
<p>An arranged marriage, after all, need not be terrible.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Delicacy has never been John’s strongest suit. He clambers around like a newborn child at the age of twenty-five, movements seemingly unfamiliar. There is something mildly comical about it, he assumes, as Prince Mark sits straighter in his chair, head tilted delicately to the side as he puts forth a valiant effort to hide his smile.</p>
<p>It is humiliating, making a fool of oneself in front of your fiancé when you meet for the first time, though John recognizes that he never was one for first impressions. His jacket is heavy on his shoulders—a ceremonial thing rarely pulled from its place beside his father’s—and it draws him into his chair where he sits, back straight.</p>
<p>John is given the chance to observe Mark as their fathers speak. He watches them with wide eyes that seem so innocent for someone who must know so much. Something about him feels distant, though it is dutifully countered by his pleasant smile and nods that are given when the timing is right.</p>
<p>He is more present than John is. There are indications that he listens to the conversation occurring beside them with some degree of reverence and understanding, whilst John has found comfort in allowing his father to handle all matters that hold importance. Power is no longer going to have a future in John’s hands; it will no longer be his responsibility.</p>
<p>To a degree, he can now ponder the reality of a quiet existence, though he wonders if Mark can.</p>
<p>Mark is full of a sort of life that runs perpendicular to John’s. Both had reveled in what sort of freedoms they were given as children, though John, it seems, was much more confident to push beyond the barriers presented to him. In that way, Mark is innocent, and John is confident in his ability to picture the future.</p>
<p>There is a future beyond these walls that have been broken and rebuilt, and John thinks that he can see glimpses of it the longer that time passes. Across the table, Mark seems immune to the promises that wrap themselves like vines around his mind, pulling him farther and farther from the present.</p>
<p>And Mark can see that in the way that John’s gaze glazes over. Something about him is overpowering—brighter than his father. He exists in a world that was so like Mark’s, and yet, he has grown into a manhood that shines a light so grand, he must think that the world must only exist in a comforting brightness. Mark thinks that it must be a different kind of love than the one he bore witness to as a child, not that the love his parents graced him with was callous.</p>
<p>In a country with seemingly endless power, the responsibilities on his father’s shoulders would never disappear. Mark would bask in love from the people and, less frequently, his parents. Their love was never fabricated, though it would always falter on the side of distance, some vague sense of fear driving them back farther and farther and farther until Mark’s only sources of light were the candles that others would hold out to him.</p>
<p>Outside these walls, Mark realizes there are worlds that he has never seen. He is unsure of whether he wishes to see them one day, though he thinks that John must strive to see them with his own eyes—to exist in a far-off way that Mark had never even dreamt of. There is unwavering obedience without true freedom, and then, he thinks, there is John.</p>
<p>Their worlds are so far apart that reaching his hand across the table feels like crossing the largest lake and the entire countryside. His hand is delicate in John’s, and the clarity in his gaze feels like the coming of spring. Mark does not have regrets or fears or hesitation. This is his father’s wish, and so he will follow it without questioning its outcome.</p>
<p>Mark lacks the foresight to determine where their future is headed. John is larger than life; a voice with passion and a sense of where to go next. He thinks that he will follow John wherever he will go. Not because it is his duty, but because John will lead him to a life that Mark has never considered.</p>
<p>In his veins, his blood thrums with a muted sense of excitement. John is freedom in a way that Mark never realized was a craving, pressed down in the pages of tomes like the delicate peonies he would pick from his mother’s garden.</p>
<p>“It is a <em>pleasure</em>,” John says, and Mark nods. A pleasure, indeed.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The ceremony is planned for one year in the future, and Mark realizes that it is his father’s way of offering him an out. It is his father’s way of telling Mark that it is acceptable to say no. He cannot, though, as John occupies such a large space in his life. Only days have passed, and Mark has found that John fills spaces left empty that Mark did not realize existed.</p>
<p>John is larger than the life that Mark leads, and he realizes that he wants to be a part of whatever future John is in the process of creating, even if it isn’t made for him. His brother asks him one morning, with concern in his eyes, whether Mark is sure of his conviction—whether Mark’s heart is in this for the right reasons.</p>
<p>Mark thinks that it is acceptable to be selfish for the first time in his life. So, he tells his brother as much, hands pressed flat against the table. “There is nothing for me here, and there is nothing for John here, either. What other options are there for me to do?”</p>
<p>“Father would never force you to make a decision,” his brother says, sitting down, “and you know that. This arrangement is not a final decision. They are leaving this to <em>you</em> both.”</p>
<p>“And I have no qualms with the decision he has made for me, and neither does John.” He smooths down the napkin on his lap as if it is his nerves, not pausing until the wrinkles have disappeared. “He is a man with a kind heart and a good sense of the world. I will be happy, and I hope he will, as well.”</p>
<p>Much like their mother, his older brother searches for something in Mark’s gaze that he will never find. Mark is a man of obedience who knows the realities that present themselves to him, and how far he is allowed to push the world around him away. Before him, the walls are breaking down, and for the first time, Mark can see the world beyond crumbling marble with his own eyes, rather than through the words and illustrations of men he will never meet.</p>
<p>And Mark has never been one for lies. He speaks honestly and truthfully, though the words may emerge convoluted. Whatever his brother searches for remains unseen, and he allows himself a solitary sigh before nodding.</p>
<p>“So be it, then. So long as you will be <em>happy</em>, Mark.”</p>
<p>“Will <em>you</em> be happy?” Mark furrows his brows as he examines his brother’s gaze. “I feel that you have been forced into something that you regret.”</p>
<p>“There are no regrets when your freedom is assured, Mark.” He pauses, for the briefest of moments, before a smile passes across his face. “And I am happy, if that matters to you.”</p>
<p>“It does,” Mark says, voice firm.</p>
<p>While Mark searches for freedom, regardless of how selfish he is willing to be, he hesitates to leave his brother so far behind. There is a sense of comradery between them, having grown largely the same; so willing to adhere to the rules and lines imposed upon their lives. That is one thing, Mark thinks, that John will not understand.</p>
<p>John is an only child, stuffed so full of love that there is plenty to give away. He thinks that, perhaps, he can come to convince Mark that he is deserving of love, though perhaps it does not have to be from him. He simply hopes that Mark will accept something from him, whether it is kindness, a lesson, or love.</p>
<p>He mentions this to Mark in passing one day as they walk through one garden to the next. They are ornate, to put it simply, though John realizes that the idea of how lavish these spaces are never truly passed through Mark’s mind. Something about it is endearing, though to a greater degree, it is a reminder that Mark has spent his existence sheltered.</p>
<p>“You really… You are accepting this?”</p>
<p>Mark tilts his head to the side, noncommittal. “Of course I accept this.”</p>
<p>“You have no… reservations?” John struggles to wrap his mind around the idea of Mark so willingly diving into a future that is within his control. He wonders if perhaps he does not need to. “Truly? No one you would rather spend your future with?”</p>
<p>“Do <em>you</em>?”</p>
<p>“I do not,” John answers, honestly. He thinks with a bleary memory of the last time he could say that there was someone he loved. There are people—several, really—that flood his mind, before he pushes them to the side. That was then, and this is now, and John has already devoted his heart in the present to love Mark as he can.</p>
<p>He nods in response to John’s answer, as if it solves the questions that the universe has been posing him. “Right. How do we find time to love when there are other things to occupy our minds?”</p>
<p>Shaking his head, John hums. “We will find the time.”</p>
<p>Mark looks up at him in disbelief, lips parted, and John manages a laugh.</p>
<p>“We will?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” affirms John.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Seconds, minutes, days, and months merge together, and John wonders if he has convinced himself to love Mark, or if it is the product of a natural process that was destined to happen. It is not truly evident to him in the moment, though John feels no rush to figure anything out.</p>
<p>There is endless time before them, and John finds more enjoyment in learning the innerworkings of Mark’s mind that seems to be so entangled with things that he cannot understand. And John acknowledges that it should not be his purpose to understand Mark as intimately as he wishes to. There are barriers put in place that he cannot yet walk over.</p>
<p>Spaces may continue to shrink, though it means nothing when they still exist.</p>
<p>Physically, John has found that Mark feels comfort with his presence, which is a step forward, though unexpected. He no longer looks up in a suppressed sort of fear when John approaches. Rather, there is recognition and a budding happiness in his voice when they greet one another, accompanied by an eagerness to explore the world around them.</p>
<p>It is fascinating to see Mark grow before his very eyes. Mark, who, at twenty-one, is growing into his own sense of self and not the one he was so determined to exist in. It is fascinating to see Mark, at twenty-two, situated farther in his journey, though still learning so much.</p>
<p>A year passes before John can recognize that time moves faster when there is a deadline to be met. And Mark can echo that sentiment—struggles to wrap his mind around the preparations that whirl around them. He has no direct part in anything, and he finds himself a passive bystander to his own future.</p>
<p>Something about that is unsettling, and yet something about it also puts Mark at ease. It is a weight off his shoulders that others must burden, and John seems to take it in stride. The most Mark can do is the same. He falters at times, desperate to incorporate himself into a part of his life that he is not meant to.</p>
<p>It is moments like those where John takes him gently to the side, gaze understanding as it always is. John is a distraction—a reprieve from the things that plague Mark’s mind. He guides them through the garden with sweeping gestures and provides Mark with what little knowledge of botany he holds in his mind.</p>
<p>Mark, in turn, allows John to guide him. His voice is soothing, and a constant for Mark by now. Every second is a gentle reminder that John is his future as much as this marriage is and, while the two are not necessarily mutually exclusive, there are regions where there is no overlap, because marriage is his future due to the blood in his veins, and John is his future because the stars have allowed it.</p>
<p>Occasionally, Mark will ponder the semantics of their romance—of how it has been brought to life from an inhuman sense of obligation, morphing into something that Mark finds comfort in. Never was he trapped, and he realizes now that the mirage of obligation was what convinced him to stay by John’s side. Never was obligation the thing that drove his sense of love.</p>
<p>To a degree, it is difficult for those around him to wrap their minds around it, and Mark understands. He struggled with it himself, though settles into his love easily now, fingers tangled with John’s as they observe the stars.</p>
<p>Summer nights are clear, and Mark feels the openness invite him to rest his head on John’s shoulder as he tells the stories of constellations that he observes in the night sky. They are stories that Mark thinks his mother told him as a child; now John recounts them with a fondness that nearly matches her own.</p>
<p>And John, who once preferred winter, finds that the end of summer has become something of a comforting blanket for him. It settles heavy, weighted just right, on his shoulders, as Mark drifts between consciousness and dream beside him as the garden comes to life.</p>
<p>“We should go catch some,” Mark murmurs against his shoulder. John watches Mark stir before he descends the stairs, feet sure as he wanders the garden.</p>
<p>Around him, the garden seems to sing and dance, thrumming with life. John thinks that it was a gift to fall in love with Mark. It is a steady sort of love, that stands firm on its own and guides John towards Mark’s figure in the center of the open yard, where fireflies write messages to one another in the light of the moon.</p>
<p>He is fascinated at the way Mark seems to open his hands, inviting the fireflies to land. And they do, flashing and saying hello to a man who holds not only their lives, but John’s heart, in his hands.</p>
<p>Their future is not uncertain, and John smiles as Mark turns towards him, eyes wide.</p>
<p>“Look!” Mark says.</p>
<p>With a smile, John strides forward. He does not know how to look away.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Marriage is grand if the ceremony is anything to pull from, though John grapples with the impersonal vows, written by another man’s hand, traded between them on an altar as millions of strangers watched. The words sit heavy on his tongue and even heavier on his conscience as Mark mentions to him, one morning, of their impending move.</p>
<p>And John thinks it’s fitting, to spend his life in one place, to find love in another, and develop the rest of his character together, with his husband, in another land.</p>
<p>The word husband still feels foreign, simply on the mind. He is accustomed enough to speaking the word out loud, though it has become detached from the meaning. Embroiled in his thoughts, John recognizes the disconnect and puts forth his best attempt to smooth out the edges and stitch them back together.</p>
<p>Amongst this all, they must decide where to go next. Mark craves the countryside—he craves clean air and distance from strangers after living a life so scrutinized by those who only know his name. John, whose heart simply follows Mark’s, agrees without issue. There is argument, though not between them, and it is months—nearly a year—before a destination is deemed acceptable.</p>
<p>Mark’s brow is almost constantly furrowed during the development, and John stands there, ready to smooth it down with gentle words and promises that he has every intention of keeping.</p>
<p>And, eventually, everything is finalized, though John cannot help the deep sense of nostalgia and longing that rests deep in his bones as they fold their things neatly, tucking them into boxes. He is leaving a place, again, that had become a home beyond all odds—beyond the expectations of his rebellion and search for freedom.</p>
<p>Though, when put so poetically, he finds that he <em>has</em> found freedom. It is simply in a way that defied the future so many had predicted for him. And it is slow—it’s a slow transition from formality and visualizing one another as strangers to the existence that they lead now.</p>
<p>The life where John is with Mark, and Mark is with John, and they’re undistinguishable to an extent, while still maintaining their individual identities. John begs him to sweep away the formalities and become himself, and Mark, eventually, concedes.</p>
<p>“Call me Johnny,” John says. Mark turns towards John in surprise. “It feels too formal. John feels so formal. I like Johnny. My mom—she calls me Johnny. It feels sweeter. Nicer.”</p>
<p>He presses his palm to Mark’s cheek, and he finds Mark leaning into his touch, eyes closing. “Would that make you happy?”</p>
<p>“It would make me very happy.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Mark whispers. “Johnny.”</p>
<p>When he opens his eyes, Johnny is beaming.</p>
<p>“Johnny,” Mark tries again, becoming more comfortable with the name in his mouth. It’s difficult, in a way, to change a convention his brain has adhered to so quickly, though he finds himself settling to it fast enough; allowing the intricacies of formalities be washed away through time and intimacy.</p>
<p>His fingers grip at the hem of Johnny’s shirt with a deep-rooted desperation as he sorts through the thoughts that plague his mind—as he leaves the only home he has ever known. There’s a fear, that has been growing, steadily, and Mark is unsure of how to prune it properly, so it does not overgrow his happiness or his kindness, though it becomes harder by the day.</p>
<p>Johnny does his best to tend to it on his own, though Mark knows that it’s <em>his</em> job to do that. That it’s <em>his</em> job to quell his fears and remind himself that they have no place in an existence where he’s already found happiness. It is happiness, and of course it doesn’t exist without conflict, though Mark thinks that Johnny is good at reminding Mark of the need to step back and take a look at the bigger picture.</p>
<p>“Johnny,” whispers Mark, watching as his husband meets his gaze. “I think I can become accustomed to this.”</p>
<p>“I hope you can,” Johnny teases, resting the palm of his hand against Mark’s neck, “because I <em>do</em> admit that it’ll be quite weird having my husband refer to me as John for the rest of my life. Johnny feels more comfortable. It is more comfortable. I like it more.”</p>
<p>“Well,” humming, Mark leans into Johnny’s touch, “if you like it more, then I’ll do it. I can get used to this. I think I am already used to this.”</p>
<p>“It’s the only thing I’ll ask of you.” Johnny’s touch is gentle as he relaxes his hand, trailing it down Mark’s arm until his grip is loose around his wrist. “Otherwise, every request between us will only come from you. Is that selfish of me?”</p>
<p>Falling silent, Mark gazes into Johnny’s eyes. They hold nothing but earnestness—Mark doesn’t quite understand yet how a gaze can say so much, though he’s beginning to understand that the love Johnny breathes overflows. It spills over until everyone can feel it. Johnny is a physical manifestation of love, and Mark is given the ability to bask in his warmth every day.</p>
<p>“I think,” Mark says, drawing closer, “it’s a bit too altruistic. I request that <em>you</em> make a request, if that’s the case.”</p>
<p>With a smile, Johnny says, “Kiss me.”</p>
<p>Mark, rising onto his toes, reaffirms that he is a man of his word.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s bizarre, Mark thinks, that he feels so comfortable in Johnny’s arms. He isn’t sure if it’s the distance that they’ve put between themselves and the lives behind them, or if it’s the moment, though Mark is sure that it’s more than that. He swallows his fright at this revelation, instead choosing to reach up and press his palm against the side of Johnny’s neck, fingers gently massaging until Johnny is awake, staring at Mark with sleepy eyes.</p>
<p>Mark thinks he could live happily in this moment. He could die and live this day over and over and over again and have no regrets. With Johnny, Mark has learned to accept mistakes and regrets and to live a life for himself that isn’t dictated by the all-consuming expectations set for him by the blood he was born with.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Johnny whispers, voice deep. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”</p>
<p>“It’s been a long day of travel,” Mark rubs a comforting circle against Johnny’s jaw with his thumb as he speaks, “so I don’t blame you. Sleep if you want.”</p>
<p>As comfortable as he has become with Johnny’s presence, there will always be something unsettling about his stare and the way he seems to look so deep into Mark’s mind. Whatever he sees must grow some sort of fondness in his heart, though, as he smiles so sweetly that Mark feels himself fall farther for Johnny, even if he doesn’t know that he deserves it.</p>
<p>“Are you happy, Mark?”</p>
<p>He turns the question over in his head as he looks at Johnny, who waits expectantly for his answer. It would be a lie, he thinks, to say no. He, somewhere along the way, has found happiness with Johnny. It’s not convoluted—not tied up with a sense of obligation. There’s comfort and understanding and love and things that Mark never expected to find, such as happiness and confidence.</p>
<p>Mark still struggles to understand whether he deserves this or not; how long this will last in the world that he has started to build around them.</p>
<p>And Johnny asks this question nearly every day, as if he himself is afraid that whatever happiness they’ve found will shatter. To some degree Mark echoes the sentiment; he finds himself, at times, pondering whether this life will fall to pieces in his hands—whether this life is like a sandcastle, destined to fall apart when it dries up.</p>
<p>Hands gentle, he presses his palms to Johnny’s cheeks. It whisks away his concerns as he nods.</p>
<p>“I’m happy,” Mark answers earnestly. “I promise I’m happy.”</p>
<p>“Then I’m happy,” murmurs Johnny. He pulls Mark’s forehead towards his lips, keeping them planted there for several moments before pulling away. “Your happiness is and always will be my priority. However far away you must go, I’ll go with you.”</p>
<p>He’s careful as he looks at Mark, gauging his reaction.</p>
<p>“Well,” Mark says with a smile, “I’ll try not to drag you too far, then.”</p>
<p>A content sort of happiness blooms in Johnny’s chest as he pulls Mark closer, settling as his head rests on his chest. He’s sure that Mark can hear the rampant beating of his heart as they lay prone. It’s disgustingly poetic, Johnny thinks, that he fell for Mark against the expectations set by those around him.</p>
<p>It’s poetic, and it fits them, seeing as they’re something of a completed set when together. Acceptance came first, followed by understanding, and then a love that was shaky at first, decisive later.</p>
<p>Altogether, it makes sense; the uncertainty that brewed under the surface regarding a love that could seem a byproduct of feeling trapped; of having nowhere else to go. And, to some degree, it started that way. It was a seed that was planted by hands that were not theirs, though cared for through their own words and sounds and lessons.</p>
<p>With Mark, Johnny finds happiness in a sweet sort of way. It isn’t overwhelming or unnatural, and it flows over him with an ease that is unfamiliar to him. The love between them is something that Johnny settles into easily, like the space has formed to his body over time.</p>
<p>“You can drag me as far away as you need to go,” murmurs Johnny against the crown of Mark’s head.</p>
<p>There are still proverbial crowns that sit on the top of their heads. Johnny will never have to carry one of his own, and the duties will largely fall on Mark’s shoulder. He, instead, will stand there as a place for Mark to land when he climbs too high and falls from the stairs that others build for him.</p>
<p>“To every corner of this vast planet,” Johnny whispers, rubbing gentle circles on Mark’s back, “I will go with you. To other planets, to rest among the stars. You have me when you need me, when you want me, and perhaps when you don’t even realize those two.”</p>
<p>Beside him, Mark relaxes into his touch, the grips of sleep tying up loose ends and tucking them both back in. The atmosphere is gentle, and Johnny thinks that is an existence that he can accept. He is bundled in happiness and contentment to a degree he never expected, though now revels in.</p>
<p>“For now,” Mark’s words are muffled against Johnny’s chest, “here is fine enough.”</p>
<p>Humming, Johnny replies, “In fact, I think it might be more than fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>They live a not-quite quiet life in the countryside, though Johnny finds himself more often than not traversing empty dirt roads on his own, the sun and Mark his only company in the vast emptiness that is a nature, hand-carved by man. They are summoned often enough that Johnny is gone and misses the emptiness, or Johnny is present and misses the life. A steady fluctuation between the two often leaves him satisfied.</p>
<p>Johnny, in the reality of his existence, could not have asked for a better life. He knows this from the way Mark smiles for him every morning, returning from the gardens with a new flower in his hands, eyes shining as he proudly displays his bounty. They find things to occupy their time: they wander to the nearby village to co-exist, rather than observe; Mark is absorbed into the daily village life and Johnny, as a result, follows.</p>
<p>And this, Johnny thinks, will be the way they spend the rest of their days, settled into a blissful happiness that seems untouched by the world around them. He is spoiled, and he knows this—allows the guilt on his shoulders to be washed away as Mark wakes in the morning beside him, throwing open their curtains to allow then sun to rise alongside them.</p>
<p>They are an incomplete poem. Not quite an epic, as there is no lesson to be told; no hero who made a grand sacrifice. If anything, the math doesn’t quite add up. Johnny sacrificed so little to be given so much.</p>
<p>He has been given the opportunity to create his own world out of nothing—an opportunity he took and ran with, until he tired out, allowing his resources to pool around him. Exhausted and on the ground, he rests, Mark dutifully building what he can around them.</p>
<p>Mark is better at that than he is. He, with careful gestures, builds castles full of memories that Johnny cannot recall, though Mark retells with sweeping words that Johnny doesn’t find as familiar as Mark does; builds castles that tell their story.</p>
<p>It is in the full moon, twenty-one minutes after the day has changed, that Johnny allows himself to bask in the love that he has been surrounded with for his entire life. There’s something so gentle about the way it settles around him that feels right. With Mark beside him, he thinks that everything simply <em>makes sense</em>.</p>
<p>There are things to worry about—considerations to be made—and yet Johnny cannot help but live in the present. And it is <em>Mark</em> who often pulls Johnny towards the light at the end of whatever dark tunnel that Johnny has managed to find himself in. It’s a comforting realization that Mark is there, right beside him, wherever he may go.</p>
<p>And he knows Mark feels the same.</p>
<p>Mark lets him know through the twisting patterns he traces on Johnny’s back as they allow the sunlight to stir their tired bodies awake. His touches are always gentle, though Mark does this on purpose. He’s careful with the way he holds Johnny close.</p>
<p>It’s not that they’re fragile. If anything, Mark thinks that their love is firm and strong and will withstand the future.</p>
<p>As the sun rises behind him, Mark is allowed to observe Johnny in the first moments of day. It’s striking, the way the shadows that mar his face disappear and, for the briefest of moments, he looks youthful. For a moment, Johnny resembles the man Mark met before they were told the news. The man who saw wonder around every corner. And, to an extent, he still does, though it feels so different now that they find those things together.</p>
<p>“Good morning,” he whispers, watching as Johnny awakens. His husband’s cheek feels warm against the palm of his hand after bathing in sunlight, and his hand moves as Johnny smiles. “Did you sleep well?”</p>
<p>“So long as you are beside me, I’ll always sleep well,” admits Johnny, unabashed.</p>
<p>His honesty is something that Mark still finds himself reeling from. Their forms of honesty are so different from one another. Mark’s is gentle and flowing, and it cuts corners to smooth edges. Johnny’s is no less gentle, though it does not smooth itself down.</p>
<p>It’s direct in a way that shoots Mark in the heart as he smiles back, pulling Johnny close to kiss him—to pepper his face with physical adoration that Mark knows he craves.</p>
<p>“Good morning,” Mark murmurs between each kiss. “Good morning, good morning, good morning.”</p>
<p>They are each a distinctive <em>I love you</em>, and Johnny knows that—Mark knows that he does.</p>
<p>With a smile, Johnny hums. “I love you, too.”</p>
<p>“And what do you have planned for today, my love?”</p>
<p>Heart soaring, Johnny rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling. It’s a plain ceiling—missing the stars and planets his mother had painted on his when he was a child. He had nothing planned, and he never does. Every day is a new opportunity to explore the world and what it has to offer; all with Mark by his side.</p>
<p>He looks up at Mark, who sits straight, fingers tangling in the bed sheets as he leans over to press a kiss to John’s lips. “A lazy day, is it?”</p>
<p>“Nothing beckons us. I think it’s safe for us to stay inside today, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Well, with you,” Mark murmurs, “everything is lovely.”</p>
<p>Outside their window, the sun rises further; a reminder that it is time to emerge from the small world they have molded for themselves. Johnny shakes his head resignedly, with fervent sentiments of love, before pulling Mark down to him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/haechansheaven">@/haechansheaven</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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